


off went her head, and off went yours, too

by starrshard



Series: hanging by a spiderweb - kirukiyo bnha/dr [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Heavy Angst, Heroes to Villains, Kimura Seiko is Tojo Kirumi and Shinguji Korekiyo's Child, Kiyo and Seiko have a healthy only father/daughter relationship, Literally cannot tell who it is haha, Sad, Sad Ending, Sorry I write ruruka as a bitch, Vague references to my main story project rn Neo Killing Game, Violence, also it’s all from a mentally unstable seiko’s pov so it’s kinda biased, honestly I hate her I’m sorryy, is that so rare, just vaguely mentions a female survivor, no spoilers tho, rlly sad, seiko is a psycho, thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21729361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrshard/pseuds/starrshard
Summary: “Seiko?”She looks back to see Korekiyo, her most beloved father.Everything she has done in her life has been for him.Was it all worth it, just to see his horrified expression, see the tears streaming down his face?She hopes so.“Dad,” she whispers. “Dad, are you proud of me?”After all, she ruined her life for this.
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Tojo Kirumi
Series: hanging by a spiderweb - kirukiyo bnha/dr [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568569
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	off went her head, and off went yours, too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This is a sequel to “please don’t leave me alone with the ghosts”. You don’t have to read that one first since all you need to know from it is mentioned in the first chunk of this fic. The prequel is more Kirukiyo centric, while this one is more centric on Seiko and what happens after the ending.
> 
> This is a BNHA/DR crossover universe in case you didn’t check that particular tag. This crossover fandom has a bit more relevance in this fic than the prequel; you don’t have to know anything about BNHA except for the fact that people have quirks, aka magical powers. These range from physical features (having a tail, wings, having the head of a bird, etc) to elemental (electricity, fire, ice, etc) to various other interesting tidbits (seeing into a person’s future, brainwashing, erasing someone else’s quirk by looking at them, etc).
> 
> Seiko gets a lil redesign! She has heterochronous eyes (one green, like Kirumi, one gold, like Kiyo). She is born with darker olive-ish hair. It’s long, wavy, and reaches the small of her back. She has that lock that kind of covers her one eye, like Kirumi. Here’s her doodle: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1M7Sff9Ie9kZyMueYxT4-p-DdemijzkTh5JJsJdywZus

When Seiko's mother died, her entire world seemed to crumble.

She remembered that day in perfect detail.

She had been in her first year of junior high. It had been a pleasant autumn day- her fourth class, mathematics, to be exact. She had just been wondering if the class could go any faster when the teacher's phone rang. Yukizome hurried over and picked it up, softly glowing angel halo bobbing from its usual place hanging over her head; her quirk involved using it as a fiery tool, apparently. A portable weapon of sorts. _Wish my quirk were that nice._

"Chisa Yukizome, how can I help you?" Yukizome spoke into the phone. There was some muffled speaking; the entire class was quiet enough that Seiko could hear a voice on the other end of the receiver. She watched as the teacher frowned; _why does she suddenly look so glum?_ "Mmh-hmm. Oh dear. Okay. I'll send her down right away. Thank you. Bye."

Yukizome hung up. "Seiko, they need you down at the office. Something happened at work with your parents," she vaguely explained.

"Oh. Okay." She got up, picked up her bag, and exited the classroom, with fifteen pairs of eyes glued to her back as she shut the door as discreetly as possible. She could hear Yukizome calling for the class's attention and getting them back to their lesson.

 _I hope it's nothing major..._ Seiko thought worriedly as she trudged down the stairs. _Last time, Dad ended up in the hospital... it was so stressful..._

"Hi, Seiko." Speak of the devil, Kiyo was leaning against the wall by the office doors. He looked terrible; he wasn’t badly injured, and the worst Seiko could see was that his uniform was rather scuffed and covered in dark stains. But his expression, even with the mask covering half of his face, was one of horror, one of sorrow, of longing. The pit in the girl’s stomach only got deeper, and she swallowed nervously. _He looks so glum._

“Um, Dad..?” Seiko hurried over to her father, fidgeting as she readjusted her bag over her shoulder. As she got closer, she noticed three more things in rapid succession.

_One: his hands were covered in blood, in smudged, crimson blood._

_Two: he had been crying._

_Three: Kirumi was nowhere to be seen._

“Dad, what happened… to Mom..?” Seiko suddenly found her heart beating at twice the speed it was before. She regretted asking the question as soon as it left her masked mouth, slipping through her sickly teeth held in place by pale lilac braces. She pushed back the lock of her hair that always got in front of her eye with a shaking, gloved hand.

“Seiko.” Kiyo’s voice was strained as he bent down to look at her face to face. The girl’s first response was to avoid eye contact; she tried to stare at the zipper of his own mask before he reached forward to place a hand on her shoulder. _The blood is dry._ “Look at me.”

Seiko complied quickly, trying not to blink too many times as she met her father’s golden eyes. Her own mismatched ones were reflected in them. Kiyo let out a slow exhale, and Seiko knew something terrible must have happened. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know.

“Your mother… you won’t be seeing her again for a long time, Seiko.”

_She didn’t want to know._

“Dad, you don’t have to try and hide it from me. I’m… I-I’m not that dense.” She didn’t even realize there were tears welling up in her eyes until her breath shuddered. “M-Mom’s dead, isn’t she?”

Kiyo didn’t respond. Crystal droplets welled up in his eyes, spilled over the edges, and he began crying too.

That was the only response Seiko ever needed.

…

They went to the funeral a week later.

Seiko almost didn’t want to go. Everyone spoke of how she was so great, such a wonderful maid, a courageous hero sidekick, hopelessly brave and selfless, which ended in her terrible demise.

She heard that it had been a very gory finale.

She was so, so very _frustrated_ with all of the speeches denouncing her mother a hero, an angel, a goddess. Why do all this when the person was dead? Why praise them when they’re no longer here to receive it? Why speak of the past and dig up more grief and regrets and sorrows, and make everyone feel even more miserable? 

~~_(Why not speak of taking ownership of her loss, of taking vengeance on her cold-blooded murderer? Why sit around and do nothing until the worst happens, then continue sitting around crying when another disaster strikes?)_ ~~

It certainly made Seiko only sadder and sadder. It made Kiyo feel horrible, too, she was sure. He cried in his room, alone, all evening after the ceremony, after his wife was buried away six feet under. Seiko tried not to feel too awkward; she wasn’t the best with feelings like this and felt shy with emotional older people, especially her parents. It was kind of hypocritical, really, considering the fact that she herself was rather sensitive. She cried the entire time while making dinner; usually Kiyo would be the one doing this for the two people he loved after a long day’s work. _But there wasn’t a second person to care for now, is there?_

It was a wonder she didn’t burn herself more than once; even that single injury she easily healed with her quirk. Her right hand, to be exact.

It’d be disastrous if she’d accidentally used her left.

***

Time rolled onwards like a pebble tumbling down a mountain. On and on, with no stop, no end in cycle, no stutters or pauses. And Seiko was dragged along with it.

She wished her mother would come back. That was the only thing she wanted.

Everything felt so wrong with her gone. Kiyo was distant and sad; he seemed to be lost in the past, never looking forward. She’d never seen him look so mopey, so depressed. No day was happy; even if she had a pleasant time at school, the minute she stepped within the boundaries of her own home everything came crashing down all over again. Holidays were left uncelebrated; after all, what was there to celebrate when the love of your life, half of your soul, was gone? What was there to celebrate when your own parent was dead, never to see you grow up, never to praise you or congratulate you again?

~~(She tried not to blame her father for her misery, really; she tried her best to sympathize. But it was difficult when she was trying to move forward but he held her back with his own existence.)~~

She felt hollow. Devoid of meaning. She could play and laugh with her friends, Ruruka and Izayoi, but it never felt right. Everything was off-kilter. She had lost something when her mother died, and it was more than her presence and embrace; she had lost all of the will and direction in her world. It didn’t help that at home, she had nothing. Nobody. Nothing but the succulents that sat on her windowsill, the little plants her mother had bought her a whole year ago. 

She took excellent care of them.

“Hey hey, Akira,” she whispered, staring at the aloe vera plant in a ceramic pot. She ran a gloved finger over the fluid leaf’s ragged edges. “You reckon there’s anything left worth living for?”

Of course, the plant was silent to the question. Seiko sighed and moved back to fold her arms on the sill and lay her head down.

_What should I do..?_

_What should I do to end this endless cycle, to stop this eternal passage of time and turn it into something meaningful?_

~~_(It always frustrated her that Kirumi’s murderer was left unspoken for. What happened to him? Did he get thrown in jail? Then what? Was he executed? He should’ve been executed, given the same punishment as his victim…)_ ~~

“Seiko?” She jolted up to see Kiyo hovering in the doorway. Bags lined his dull, yellow eyes; his voice was strained, his posture sagging. “How… How are you?”

“Mmh.” Seiko put her head down again, facing away from her father. She heard him sigh and step towards her with a shuffling gait.

Quietly, he pulled up her painted stool and sat down next to her. “How’s school been for you?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled. Kiyo would do this once a week; try to sit down and communicate with her. She loved her father, her only remaining parent, of course she did; she was thankful he still did his job and cared for her, following in the selfless footsteps of his late wife. However, she couldn’t help but feel an underlying bitterness towards him for wallowing in his misery. Maybe that would explain her unwillingness to vent her problems to him. “I have Ruruka and Izayoi. My grades have been fine.”

“That’s good.” Seiko felt him shift beside her; she lifted her head off of the sill to look up at him. “Look, I’m… I’m sorry. For neglecting you when you needed it… I was so caught up in myself that I forgot about you.”

Taken aback by the sudden apology, Seiko looked up to face her father. There was a warm sincerity in his eyes and an embarrassed, awkwardly genuine expression plastered over his face. He tilted his head, reminding her of a rather sad cat.

“I- um…” Seiko could only blink at her father, too shocked to really say anything. Her vision blurred in a surge of tears. “I’m… sorry, too… for weighing you down..!”

Kiyo chuckled; a bittersweet sound. “You’re just like your mother with that selfless self of yours.” He wrapped his arms around her, and for the first time in years she cried into her parent’s chest.

She felt at ease, yet at the same time not.

_Just like my mother, huh..?_

_If I died… what would mom do..?_

_She’d put me to rest, wouldn’t she?_

~~_(She’d avenge me, wouldn’t she?)_ ~~

**~~_(She’d kill my killer, wouldn’t she?)_ ~~ **

Kirumi was a selfless person who put others before herself, even if both Kiyo and Seiko insisted she take care of herself a bit more. It was selflessness that got her killed, after all. Selfless courage and sacrifice.

She’d avenge her daughter, right?

It was then that Seiko made a silent promise to herself, sobbing like a baby in a tearful, plaintive Kiyo’s arms, that she’d avenge her mother.

Even if it ruined her life, she would fix her parents’, both alive and dead.

_I’m going to kill the Insect._

_I’m going to murder every single villain._

_I’m going to ruin those hero-killers._

She was going to become a hero, but in the worst way.

***

Seiko’s quirk was called Hands of Life and Death.

If she touched anything directly with all of her left fingers in contact, it would be poisoned, withering away and bleeding out into a lifeless shrivel in minutes. If she touched anything directly with all of her right fingers in contact, it would be revived of all ailments in moments.

She accidentally discovered her ability in the garden one day as a small child, brushing her left hand on a flower brush. As the plant began turning brown, she had panicked and pressed her right hand -dominant hand- to it in a frenzy. It was immediately revitalized back to health and Seiko passed out from overexertion; if she recalled correctly, Kirumi had freaked out finding her fainted after she screamed.

From that day onwards, her mother always had her wear quirk-suppressing gloves to prevent any accidental destruction of the environment. Seiko took it in stride and wore them day and night; they were her mother’s will, after all.

Today, nearly three years after Kirumi’s death, they were off. It was time for the U.A. entrance test; a battle against robots. It should be a piece of cake for Seiko, considering her incredible quirk; despite never using it in day to day life, she trained for endurance, since even just one usage of one of her hands could be rather draining.

_After all, if she wanted to kill villains, she had to be tough, right?_

In addition to that, there were bonus points for assisting others; great conditions for Seiko’s right. It was almost like the test was designed for her to pass.

The buzzer was sounded.

Within five minutes she had a two-hundred point lead on every other student.

She passed with flying colors, but was barely phased.

_Villains won’t be that easy to kill, I’m sure._

***

School was a bore.

When she entered high school, Kiyo let her cut and dye her hair. She chopped most of it off- the dark locks used to reach the small of her back, but now -especially with it curled- it merely brushed her shoulders. With a splash of pale purple dye, she had transformed herself.

Looking in the mirror, she almost looked like Kirumi, with her short hair and bothersome lock that covered her dull viridian eye.

Ruruka and Izayoi had also tested to get in; Ruruka was in the reserve course, but her boyfriend was in Seiko’s hero course class. She was thankful she had someone to hang out with, but lately she had also noticed Ruruka’s iffy treatment of her.

“Hey hey, Seiko!” Speak of the devil, there she was. Seiko turned away from her lunch to face her pink-haired friend, who was clad in a fluffy, white fur scarf. Her sky-blue eyes were alight with excitement. “Hey! Could you make something that’ll make people feel happier? Something like, a powder or a liquid I could put in a pastry?”

Seiko internally sighed. Another task from the confectioner. But she didn’t want to lose her only friend, her childhood buddy, the only one who gave the loner a chance. “Okay,” she said meekly. “Give me a few days and I’ll have it.”

_A dopamine drug, huh..? Or should I do serotonin..?_

“Okay! Thank you, Seiko! You’re the best!~” And then she was gone. Off to go to the kitchen, she guessed. The chefs enlisted her as a pastry baker. Seiko would get something from her if only she could consume sugar, despite her friend’s insistence she just try it.

_I’m overthinking again, huh?_

_It’s almost as if she’s using me…_

_Since when has she given me anything?_

_No, no, that’s dumb. She’s given me companionship, and that’s worth more than anything else in the world._

But Seiko couldn’t help but wonder.

***

She killed her first villain at the ripe old age of 18.

Seiko stood over the limp, ruined remains of a once-purple-haired villain; she thought his name was The King of Dice. His colorful clown mask, painted with red, lay in shards on the slick ground.

_The earth was slick with blood._

Seiko’s hands were shaking. She lifted a palm and looked at her left hand, awash in the hints of sunshine as dawn broke; her fingers looked perfectly harmless at first glance, but were oh-so deadly the moment you got to know them. 

And God knows she knew them far too well.

 _Calm down. Calm down. Calm down._ She took a deep breath under her black full-face mask, a metal-plated visage of a spider, complete with crimson silk touches resembling eyes. The violette stepped away and leaped out of the alley, up the building by the windowsills, clad in a sleek, snug black cloak.

The King of Dice had been the leader of a ragtag band of clowns who worked to wreak havoc upon the city, upon innocent people’s lives. His quirk was called Curse; he could cast spells on people.

They say he once cast a death spell upon an innocent boy, a former student of U.A., in fact. Her late upperclassman, a boy with wasted potential.

He was an easy target. He was skipping down an alley, perhaps heading to his base, perfectly alone. Awfully cheeky for a murderer. Seiko leapt down silently from the building top and grabbed his wrist.

She watched him slowly die, choking on his own blood, his fingers turning the same shade as his hair, as his eyes, as the blood was drained out of them. The wounds criss-crossing his body under that obnoxiously white uniform had wept a sea of red.

And now, deserting the ghosts of sirens behind her, she could only run from the guilt.

 _Quit that, Seiko!_ She reprimanded herself. _This is pathetic. He was a killer, so you put him through his well-needed retribution. You brought justice upon him. That is all._

She could only run and roll with it.

***

“Hey, Seiko!” Ah, there was Ruruka. Seiko didn’t look up from her laptop, typing away at a police report; she called in after her last victim -her fifth, to be exact- to report the discovery of a body. Faking fear was like second nature to her now, and she passed the interview breezily.

The three of them -Izayoi, Ruruka, Seiko- shared an apartment to minimize costs for each person. Izayoi’s job as a hero sidekick paid relatively well, and Ruruka’s bakery was popular. Seiko had landed herself a role as her father’s sidekick at his agency; even if her pastry-loving friend sometimes teased her about “still standing in her daddy’s shadow”, money was money.

Besides, Seiko’s real job was dedicated to her parents. It made sense that her side one was also related to her dad.

“What?” the “hero” mumbled.

“Um, I hope I’m not bothering you…” The taller of the two looked away, twiddling her slim, tough fingers; she was faking her submissive humbleness, Seiko could tell by the way she had a sneaky smile slipped over her lips. “But, um, the bakery hasn’t been doing super well this month, so I was wondering if you could pay half of my re-”

“No.”

“Huh?” Ruruka had clearly not been expecting the sidekick to defy her. Seiko fumed underneath her sickly skin. _Sucks to be her._ “What do you mean?”

“I said no.” Seiko kept her voice steady. “I have no obligation to pay your rent for you. We made a deal, Ruruka. We’d each pay our own fair share for our place in this apartment.”

“But… but I thought you were my friend!” Seiko clenched her teeth in irritation as Ruruka began to weep crocodile tears. “Shouldn’t friends look out for each other? I always look out for you!”

“What have you ever done for me?!” The pharmacist suddenly snapped, whirling around to meet the confectioner’s pale blue eyes and shocked expression. A string had finally snapped inside of her, a flame ignited in the pit of her stomach. “Always asking for this, asking for that, and I give it to you. I do your dirty work and I take your blame. I’m not your fucking maid, Ruruka!”

The pinkette was silent. Tears slipped down her face. “Seiko…”

“I’m leaving.” Seiko clicked her laptop shut with cool precision and slipped it swiftly into her bag. She got up and began for her bedroom to grab her few possessions.

Ruruka didn’t follow her.

***

After her storming out on Ruruka and Izayoi, Seiko returned to her father. He wasn’t against allowing her to take base in his apartment; she helped him with dinner a few nights a week, but generally stayed out and about day in and out. In the mornings, she’d tidy her parent’s home _-as her mother likely once did-_ before departing.

Without the drag that was her friends surrounding her day in and out, Seiko’s activity exterminating villains skyrocketed. She spent most of her time in the library, reading old newspapers and searching for targets. Obviously, she’d spent ages debating on whether or not to handle the Insect and his cronies; like it or not, he was strong; stronger than her, alright. She had to keep training, keep practicing. Besides, he was currently in jail over some other crime he did rather recently. She had to wait, and she had no issue with that; a predator does best when patiently stalking their juicy victim from afar.

On the other hand, Kiyo suspected nothing; thank God for that. Seiko’s plans would be wrecked if her father found out and realized she was killing a bunch of strangers, logic or not. He’d understand for sure once she finished her job and did the Insect in; before then, if he did find out, she’d be thrown in jail. That thought never deterred her, of course. Nothing could take her off of her trajectory now.

She was too far gone.

The deaths only kept stacking up. Ten, fifteen, twenty-two. Her twenty-third was her first hitman-assigned task; an assignment by one slightly mentally unstable young lady, one with the most gentle of voices yet the most disturbed of minds. She was a survivor of the infamous Killing Game tragedy a while back; she desired only to avenge her dead friends. The victim in question? Some guy named Kai Chisaki. He’d been a part of the League that organized the Game. He was an easy kill; he was far too cocky, and the usage of his quirk was limited due to those mechanical arms. Seiko enjoyed that one far too much; a man responsible for the deaths of nearly twenty teenagers was truly a demon on earth.

Upon being paid a handsome sum, she turned down the poor girl’s second request for the death of some lizard-looking Iguchi Shuichi. Such a mentally unstable soul would come to her senses soon enough; it would be too much if she felt responsible for so much genocide, and hypocritical to boot, considering the Game her trauma originated from.

Seiko wouldn’t feel anything, of course; she was too accustomed to it to fall now.

_Just a bit farther._

The Insect was scheduled to be released from prison in just a week.

She had to bide her time.

***

At this point her alias is infamous among heroes, villains, and civilians alike. A hero to some, a vigilante to most, and a highly dangerous serial killer to all. Of course Kiyo would pick up on it from the day she made her eighth kill, nearly a year ago, back when she was still with Ruruka and Yoi.

By that, she doesn’t mean he found her out, no; quite the opposite, actually. He was fascinated by this new delinquent on the scene, and one with such bizarre motives especially. Seiko knew all about herself within a few weeks, and he never let up on the conversation topic, even after months.

“Hey, Seiko,” Kiyo says during dinner that night. They’re at a sushi bar, and he’s charismatic as usual; he sets his chopsticks down on the ceramic rest. His mask is off; he never has a problem showing the scars that lay beneath to both his daughter and friends. “I was doing some research lately, and I found that the Arachnid has been rather quiet as of late. As my sidekick, I was wondering if you had any theories on this matter. To me, it’s almost as if they’ve found a subject of interest and is biding their time on taking them out. Any ideas?”

“Mmh.” Seiko sets her own chopsticks down; this could turn into a rather amusing conversation, dragging him around on all the false leads, although she has to be careful. One slip-up and everything will crumble in seconds; a masterpiece wrecked in a hundredth- no, _thousandth_ of the time it took to create. She wipes her own bare lips with a napkin; her dark indigo mask, one stitched with the image of a spiderweb, lays next to her arm, neatly folded. It mirrors the one on her late mother’s dress, which is probably still hanging in the back of her dad’s closet. Kiyo said he liked her style when she first embroidered it; according to him, she truly was Kirumi’s kid. Even their taste in fashion lined up. “I’d bet on the same thing. Maybe it has something to do with the recent skirmish down by Ikebukuro?”

“Oh, but isn’t the Arachnid’s thing killing villains who have killed before?” A hint of wistfulness drifts into Kiyo’s voice; _reminiscing over Kirumi, hm?_ “There were no casualties in that skirmish- just two injured.”

“I think one of the villains involved once killed a child, though,” Seiko says; she is lying, of course. She’d know if one of them had, and she has zero interest in this particular skirmish. “Maybe his sudden resurgence in activity alerted them? I could be wrong, of course,” she hastily adds. “I just heard about this in some gossip at the agency, or something.”

“Mmh hmm, that could be possible.” Kiyo’s eyes light right back up in curiosity. _Always on a hunt for theories and answers, huh? A people-lover at heart._ “That’s my girl, with her sharp detective mind. You could be a villain psychologist, you know.” He pauses, and his voice softens. “Kirumi would be so proud of you, miss Black Widow.”

 _Ah. My hero name, the one I use at the agency._ A pang shoots right through Seiko’s heart like a poisonous arrow. She isn’t sure why; of course her mother would be proud of her child avenging her. “Y-yeah. Um, thanks.” She averts her gaze, pretending to be embarrassed by the praise. Kiyo chuckles.

~~_(But would Kirumi really be proud? Would she really be happy that she raised a murderer? A hypocrite?)_ ~~

She shakes off the horrible feeling, instead opting to return her father’s gaze with her best happy face. His golden eyes set on hers, and a smile tugs at his lips. She gives a crooked one of her own, and her gaze warms. “Really. Thanks, dad.”

Her vision blurs, and a tear slips down her face without her even knowing. She hastily lowers her face and swipes at it; the knot in her chest doesn’t let up. Kiyo laughs, and his voice is light. “Are you crying, Seiko?”

“N-no!” Her face lights up with embarrassment. “It’s just… an eyelash in my eye, or something…” This prompts another laugh from Kiyo.

~~_(I’m sorry, dad.)_ ~~

***

She hunts down the Insect the day he’s let out. Watching from a distance, he’s entering an office building with his gang. He’s a strong-looking guy, for sure; two antennae protrude from just behind his ears, and muscles are clearly visible in his arms. His blade-arms and armor are probably activated in battle manually. _A buff guy. That’s just great. Not that my quirk’ll be deterred by such a filthy male._

She observes the building from behind a trash can in an alley; her lithe figure works in her advantage, and clothed in all black she’s invisible in the shadows.

The gang departs the office hours later, and Seiko isn’t even skipping a beat on her watch. She was used to this sort of waiting; besides, she’s waited countless years for this day. She couldn’t let it slip from her deadly fingers just because she got fidgety.

It’s late afternoon. The sun is lowering swiftly; she leaps from her hiding place up to the roof in mere breaths, one foot on a windowsill at a time. Darting from roof to roof, she tracks the gang. They part ways soon after; she notes that their point of farewell is terribly close to the agency Kiyo runs. She shakes that off; it wasn’t as if he’d recognize her in costume.

She watches as the Insect starts down the road alone, as it’s at that moment that she leaps, she goes to land atop the man’s broad shoulders.

However, much to her disappointment, she’s met by the flat side of a blade instead. She rebounds off of the Insect’s blade-arm, which had been extended in less than a blink of an eye’s worth of time.

“You idiot spider. I knew you were following us since the moment we left base.” He scoffs and whirls around to face her, armor protruding from his skin and sliding over his features, shredding his shirt in the process. At least he has the human decency to keep on some pants; maybe there are plates underneath the cloth. Seiko sure doesn’t want to know. She stands in a ready battle stance, awaiting him to make the first move. If her mother could withstand this wretch for nearly ten minutes all those years ago, she can do it for a twentieth of that time. All she has to do is _touch him._

She dives in for her kill again, but he easily deflects her arm, avoiding her hand, going for her face with his right blade. She realizes what’s happening a millisecond too late, and the sharp edge makes contact with her mask. She tries to pull back as it cracks, a piece of metal sent flying. Red silk is ripped and drifts to the ground before her. 

Panic threatens to overtake her senses; despite that, she ducks to dodge a second strike before sliding towards his legs, arm flailing to snag him by the ankle. He leaps back easily, both blades down in a cross to block; there is no need to cover his face. Seiko is scrambling to get up after her failed attempt to grab him by the leg resulted in her face-planting into the pavement. Another piece of her mask falls and she winces; nearly half of her left side -her golden eye- was out in the open.

“So hasty.” The Insect’s voice sounds mechanical and stunted under the influence of his quirk. “Why the hurry? I can’t believe I was once excited to meet such a notorious vigilante. Now look at you, flailing on the floor. Pick up your sorry ass and give me a show before I cut off your head.”

Seiko grits her teeth under her mask. Her cheeks burn; the villain snickers. She has waited too long for this to mess it up. She centers herself, allowing her rage to fuel the power, every lean muscle in her body aching to beat him into the earth, throw him six feet under and deeper.

“I fucking hate you!” she can’t help but spit, delirium blurring her better judgement to resist speaking. “All these years, I’ve only wanted to kill you! It’s always been _you,_ you piece of shit homewrecker!” She allows the curses and venom to slide off her tongue as she dives in. The Insect seems intrigued by her anger, but has enough awareness to slide out of the way and parry her strike before smacking her in the stomach with the blunt end of a blade.

Seiko gasps at the painful impact; _that’s sure to leave behind a nasty bruise later._ But she is in the battle now, and she has to focus; she lands into a backwards tumble and slides to her feet as smoothly as a figure skater on ice. She goes in for the offensive again, faking out and zig-zagging a few times before taking another chance. She fails again; her initial outburst and distracted nature had expended a good deal of her energy. She begrudgingly admits internally that she isn’t used to such long battles; she’s more accustomed to short surprise attacks that she could flee from in less than a minute.

“Fuck you!” she screams again as she’s knocked back. Her voice is clear as a crystal without the mask to muffle it. “Fuck you, you absolute fucking bitch!”

“Hahaha. What’s gotten you so riled up? The Insect looms over her; he’s full of openings right in her face, because he knows she’s too addled with loathing to properly function, which makes her even more pissed. “Tell me, what have I done to make you snap? Hm?”

“You… you killed my mother!” Seiko practically screeches, squirming back and out of the way. She leaps back to her feet, chest heaving. Her heart is going like a jackrabbit in her ribcage; her vision blurs a little, and she hopes she doesn’t faint from overexertion. “You killed my mother, you destroyed my family! I’m getting revenge for her!”

“Mmh hmm.” The Insect’s voice is cocky. He lumbers towards her. “And who may that be?”

Seiko is about to shriek her late parent’s name when she realizes that any human being on the block other than her and her opponent would flip at the chance to learn of the Arachnid’s identity. If only she hadn’t already given it away by breaking the mask. _Aw, shit. Oh well. I wouldn’t mind much getting taken in, as long as the Insect dies with me._

She falls silent and begins to zigzag. Around and around she loops about the Insect. He tries to follow her with his beady-eyed gaze at first, but he gives in to backing into a wall and watching his line of sight, guarding his sides. _Perfect. An opening._

She dives in, low, and her left hand makes contact with his bare ankle.

“Oops.” She nearly laughs. “Looks like your pant leg got untucked in the fuss.”

The Insect jumps back, but it’s too late. The poison starts to take effect, and she watches as he shrieks and collapses, writhing, to the sidewalk. Blood begins to blossom from his body, breaking every pore of his skin, soaking through his clothes, painting the street red.

 _A stunning success._ She watches as he dies in a mere eight-and-a-half seconds. _I wish Kirumi were here now to see._

_I hope she’s proud._

Seiko spends a moment too long gazing at her kill. She’s completely vulnerable, in the open; not only half of her mask is gone, but her shoulder-length hair, usually pulled up tightly in a bun under her snug hood, has fallen out; lilac locks spill over her shoulders in a wave. 

She’s about to turn to run, to flee from the scene, when a voice catches her by surprise from behind, cutting through her buzzing thoughts of victory, panicked chants of escaping, and her heavy breathing. Everything stops, and suddenly it’s just her and the mysterious creature that has caught her by the tail.

“Seiko?”

She halts. The voice is too familiar for comfort, and she looks back to see the last person she wants to.

It’s Korekiyo, Korekiyo Toujou-Shinguuji, head of Medusa Agency, husband to Kirumi, Seiko’s father, _her most beloved father._

He’s staring at her; distress is clear in every one of his features. There’s crystal droplets sliding down his cheeks, over the black mask that covers half of his face. Seiko’s glad, for once, that the mask conceals the full extent of his emotions.

To see his pitiful grief would be too much for her.

Everything she has done in her life has been for him; to complete her story and find out he’s disappointed in her would be devastating, maybe the only thing that could finally break her.

“Seiko..? What are you..?” His voice cracks, and a sudden realization seems to dawn on him, crash down on him all at once, as he connects the dots- the body, her costume, the _blood that covers her clothes, splatters her face, paints her footsteps red with sin._

A thought briefly flickers through her mind; _was it all worth it, just to see his horrified expression, see the tears streaming down his face?_

She hopes so, with every inch of her tar-black heart and soul.

“Dad,” she whispers. Her vision blurs. “Dad, are you proud of me?”

After all, she ruined her life for this.

Korekiyo’s face is unreadable for a moment; a blankness falls over his expression as something inside of him finally shatters into a million pieces.

Then he begins to cry.

“Dad?” Seiko murmurs, facing her father. She hides her hands behind her back, fingers clasped together. A tear slips down her face, down the uncovered side. “Are-”

“I’m so sorry, Seiko..!” Kiyo suddenly jolts forward and gathers his daughter into his arms. She stiffens in surprise for a moment, unsure of what to say. Her hands fall to her sides. “I-I’m sorry, Seiko, I messed up, and look where it’s gotten you…”

“Dad? What do you mean..?” Confusion slips into Seiko’s voice as her brain lags behind in its ability to comprehend human emotion. “I… I did good, right? I killed the Insect… I’ve put so many to justice… just like a real hero should, right?”

_Right? Right? Right? Right? Right?_

“You… you did well, Seiko.” Kiyo’s voice is strained. Seiko thinks she can hear sirens in the distance; _why are there sirens?_ “You’ve done more than enough…”

He pulls back so that she can see his face. He’s openly weeping, and Seiko can see the grief and guilt in his eyes. If she could see his mouth, she was sure he’d be forcing a crooked smile. “Let’s go home, okay?”

The sirens are getting louder. Seiko’s ears are ringing.

“U-um, before you go…” A pause. He watches her intently. “Would mom be proud of me?” she blurts out. It’s the one and only thing she wants to know _~~(before it’s too late)~~_. Kiyo flinches as if he’d been struck, almost staggers back. But he keeps his arms on her shoulders and meets her gaze with glossy, golden eyes; eyes that mirror hers. He pauses; sorrow clouds over his expression as he replies.

“Of course she would be.”

Seiko smiles, allows her tears to overflow. _The sirens are getting louder still._ She reaches up with gloved fingers; Kiyo holds onto her forearms like a lifeline with slim, scarred fingers.

She lifts and removes her mask. As she does, a wavy lock of hair slides over her ear and in front of her eye; a mirror image of Kirumi. Kiyo watches her with an oddly alert stare as she looks up at him; his gaze slides to lock with hers.

Seiko smiles; a real smile, one unconcealed by any mask; it’s the first time she’s smiled in years, in a decade.

_(She remembers the last time she smiled. It was the last dinner Kirumi shared with her and Kiyo; Seiko was telling a story from her day at school to her parents.)_

“Thanks, dad.”

There’s a sting in her shoulder blade, and the world suddenly twirls. She slips into unconsciousness all at once, the shattered plastic and metal and silk slipping from her fingers as she crumples forward into Kiyo’s awaiting arms.

She barely felt the dart hit her back.

In the end, the sirens had died.

***

The Arachnid is being arrested on twenty-four charges of murder.

The identity of the notorious villain-exterminator is Seiko Toujou-Shinguuji, daughter to two wonderful heroes. Kirumi Toujou lived as an honorable maid and died a heroic death assisting her husband in a fight against a gang of villains. Korekiyo Shinguuji lives on as the Gravekeeper Hero: Medusa, head of the Medusa Hero Agency.

And Seiko, on the other hand?

She was a vigilante under the guise of justice, one dedicated to commiting genocide upon those who have murdered others, ultimately weaving her character into a serial killer herself. She was a hypocrite, a dangerous _villain,_ one who ultimately succeeded in her original goal of avenging her mother’s untimely demise.

What of her now, you may ask?

She’s being locked in Tartarus for life.

Seiko doesn’t resist as they lock her into her little sterile room, like a mongrel being caged at the pound. There isn’t much in the cell; the walls and floor are both white, as are the halls outside. A table, chair, notepad, and pen occupy a corner. It’s silent, perfectly silent. She thinks she’s going to go insane already.

_~~(But aren’t you already insane?)~~ _

She pushes the intrusive thought away.

A curved glass wall separates her from the small hallway leading to a door, which presumably leads to a bigger chamber that branches into more cells. She briefly wonders who her neighbors are when someone catches her eye, extinguishing all conscious thought from her mind.

It’s Kiyo, standing alone on the other side of the glass, his head lowered, face cast in shadow. Seiko rushes to meet him; she’s donning a plain white gown, her own mask still adorning her face; a stark contrast to the grandiose hero costume he bears. There’s a few miniscule holes in the wall to speak through. Her ungloved hands hit the glass, warm palms pressed against the cool surface and fogging it. The electrical buzz that fills the room, having already faded into white noise in Seiko’s deranged mind, cancels out the opposite effects in her fingers.

“Dad! You came to see me already?” Seiko can’t help but grin under her mask.

She instantly falters as Kiyo looks up to meet her gaze. As she meets his gaze, she feels like she has done a one-eighty.

The haziness in his eyes, the fog over his expression; it was the appearance of someone who had run out of tears to cry and simultaneously had nothing left to feel for, nobody to smile for.

She sees it in herself; she _saw_ it in her own reflection as a child. There was a reason she avoided mirrors like the plague.

He forces the edges of a smile into the corners of his eyes, and Seiko flinches; the simple failed attempt of a gesture was enough to snap something in her chest in two. “Hey,” he murmurs; his voice cracks. “Seiko. My daughter.”

She doesn’t want to hear another word and flees, turns and runs away to the farthest corner of the cell. She curls herself into a ball and presses her face to her knees, allowing the tears to pour, allows them to hit the unforgiving, sterile ground.

She waits until she’s sure Kiyo has left.

She cries until she, too, has dried herself of sorrow, of emotion.

_~~(She is a perfect being, one devoid of everything. She is everything, yet nothing. She is hollow.)~~ _

_~~(Seiko is dead.)~~ _

She didn’t just ruin one life.

She destroyed two.


End file.
